Happily Ever After
by Arishako
Summary: Luna has always loved those Muggle faerie tales.


Title: Happily Ever After

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Ginny/Luna. Sort of. It could be friendship. Open ended, too.

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Erm…dark themes? Not really sure what to call it.

Word Count: 1,987

Spoilers: None – slight AU from the real HP books.

Disclaimer: Thankfully, I don't own Harry Potter. I only own this particular story.

Summary: Luna has always loved those Muggle faerie tales.

AN: I was kind of trying out a new style when I wrote this one. I guess it's pretty much hit-or-miss but I have no idea if I got it or not. xD This isn't my favourite story, but I do like it a bit. Also, I'm terribly sorry for any Americanisms in this fic. They are entirely my fault. .

_Once Upon a Time…_

Luna had always loved Muggle faerie tales. When she was five years old, Mummy had somehow managed to bring a whole box of the strange books home as a present for Luna. Ever since she had opened to the first page, Luna had been enamoured with the stories. She liked how the Muggles who wrote the stories had drawn every illustration of a magical creature from their own heart, rather than a dusty old schoolbook. She liked how the pictures only moved in her own head, so she could be in control and make everything move exactly how she wanted it to. She especially liked how, no matter what, the heroes would always overcome any dangers they faced and live happily ever after, so Luna never had to worry about tears or nightmares upon finishing the story.

Luna would spend hours reading and rereading pages that, by now, she could recite by heart, and she would often think of her own faerie tales, where she could be surrounded such different forms of magic and beasts than she was used to. She would imagine herself as a knight in shining armour – because waiting for someone else to come save her sounded awfully boring – out to rescue her own damsel-in-distress – because the men never do seem to need rescuing in these stories, and what is the male form of a "damsel" anyway?

_Everything was going Perfectly…_

During their teenage years, most people adjusted the stories they read, the things they liked, the way they thought; but Luna hadn't ever changed from the faerie tales she had read so often as a child. In fact, her love for the fantastic stories had only seemed to grow. She was more interested the mythical creatures – the kind that appear only in one's heart, one's fantasies, in the corner of one's eyes in a crowded place – than the beasts that could be found in any forest, any book, anytime, _anywhere_. Many people thought she was crazy – Loony, they called her – but she didn't mind because she knew that she would know just how to protect herself from the Mætrofi, (which everybody except her father seemed to think were a bunch of made-up rubbish) while the rest of the students would have to deal with their itchy feet and sweaty palms for weeks.

In fact, there is only one person that Luna has been able to warn about the Mætrofi and the other creatures mentioned in the Quibbler that try to cause problems: Ginevra (a real shame that such a pretty name like that is hated by its owner) Weasley . Ginny – as she so insists on being called – seems to be the only person who can sit through Luna's stories of Crumple-Horned-Skorkaks and Nargles. Ginny was also the only one who actually tied a cherry stem into her hair – to keep Mætrofi dust away, of course – even though Luna had been reminding her housemates _all month_.

One would call Ginny Weasley Luna's best friend, but Luna thought that term presumed too much and said too little to truly describe the two girls' relationship. After all, not only was Ginny her "best friend," she was Luna's only friend, the only one who would stand up for Luna when she was being teased, the only one who knew just how upset Luna really was about her mum, and the _only_ one who Luna had ever read any of her old faerie tales to.

Luna knew that is was no coincidence that, more often than not, her day dreams involved a beautiful princess with bright, shining, red hair.

_Until…_

But then, in Luna's sixth year, the war began. Hogwarts was nearly empty, – forty-seven students remained – classes had been "temporarily" suspended, and the usual cheeriness floating around the Great Hall had been destroyed and replaced with an uneasy feeling of dread.

That same year came the worst winter Luna could remember. She felt ashamed when she thought of past years and how she had worried so much about trivial matters such as itchy feet while here she was now: death lurking around every corner, and this time, cherry stems would do her no good.

Usually, during a particularly gloomy day, Luna would just sit over her faerie tales – they were so old, by now, that the words had smeared together and the pictures had begun to fade – and pretend everything was all right. For some reason, however, that didn't seem to work for her anymore. She didn't know if it was a sign of growing up, of maturity, or if she had just gotten too used to the usual tears and nightmares tears and nightmares in her life. All she knew was that the faerie tales didn't help like they once did, and that thought seemed to make her even more depressed.

_At the Last Minute…_

Just when Luna was about to give up, and submit to the dark cloud that had been trying to sneak into her mind ever since her mum died, Summer came. Well, not really. In fact, it was still early-January, but Luna suddenly felt as warm and bright and cheery as a summer morning.

On the train bringing the students back from their homes, which they had been visiting for Christmas, Luna saw a flame of some sort of hope emerge from the second class section. It was a very small flame – couldn't be more than a foot long – but that was good because large flames would only burn things down and hurt more people, which was quite the opposite of what Luna needed at the time. Ginny Weasley stepped off the Hogwarts Express, her fire-red hair seeming almost alive against the cool colours of the snow around her, unaware of the pair of wide, blue eyes that followed her every move.

Luna wondered if that hair was really as hot as it looked; if her hand would burn when she ran her fingers through the fiery locks. Luna assumed she would never know, as Ginny was very well known around the school for giving Anthony a two-week-long banishment curse, on a place most girls that age couldn't even think about without giggling, when he'd so much as tugged on some strands teasingly. Luna supposed she could always ask him, but she assumed he would become upset upon bringing up that incident and she rather doubted he would have noticed anyway. So few people notice the truly important things in life.

Luna shrugs to her own question and continues to think of fiery hair and freckled skin as she closes her eyes and, for the first time in weeks, successfully banishes all thoughts of the war from her head.

_Suddenly…_

Luna was in the library – probably unnecessary since all of the Hogwarts corridors were just as quiet now, if not more so – when Ginny burst through the doors and ran towards Luna, earning nothing more than a dirty look from an utterly exhausted Madame Pince. Luna could instantly see something was wrong with the girl, Ginny's eyes were red-rimmed, her hands clenched in fists so tight that her knuckles had turned pale, and her hair – originally shining with passion and beauty – was now dulled with carelessness and neglect. Ginny walked toward the blonde and sat in the chair next to her. (They were so close that their knees were almost touching; if Luna just leaned forward a _little_ more…)

"Are you alright?" Luna asked, already bracing herself for the negative reply.

"My mum's dead." Ginny mumbled, her eyes widening as if just saying the news out loud somehow made it that much more _real_. "Charlie, too."

Processing the information, Luna decided not to say anything, and just let the other girl lean in for a hug. Luna knew she was prone to say the wrong thing, and she really didn't want to demonstrate that habit. _Not here. Not now._ Instead of talking, Luna gently wrapped her arms around the redhead. And, in an instant, thousands of words seemed to have been passed between the two of them, each word sounding different in the utter silence that lingered around them.

Luna knew that if she would ever have a chance, this was it. Pointedly _not_ thinking about temper management and banishment curses, Luna lifted one hand off of Ginny's back and slowly brushed some red hair out of the girl's face and behind her ear. Before Luna let go of the hair, her grabbed a few strands between her thumb and forefinger (thirty-three, but Luna wasn't counting or anything) and rubbed her thumb so lightly against them waiting for the heat she had convinced herself would be there.

There was no flame. No fire. No ember. Not even the smallest warmth. Ginny's hair was as cold and dead as the stones in the walls surrounding them and the pages in the books on the shelves behind them.

Luna supposed she should feel silly. After all…it's hair. How can hair of any colour be on fire without the owner of that hair being in quite a lot of pain? Luna supposed she should feel angry. Really, how many nights had she thought about that special flame Ginny had always seemed to carry with her? How long had she been carrying that one last hope? Luna supposed she should feel _something_.

But all Luna could feel was cold: so horribly cold, cold, _cold_. Not on her outside, as it was rather warm at their place near the fireplace, but it seemed as if a layer of ice had gathered directly under her skin.

The feeling was maddening, and Luna was about to cry out in frustration until Ginny reached up and let her own hand brush against Luna's wrist, seemingly too emotionally exhausted to properly return the hug. Luna realized, with a shock, that she had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she had just left her hand right behind Ginny's ear, and was stroking the silky skin gently.

Luna was about to pull her arm away from Ginny when she felt the same fingers that had brushed against her arm moments ago wrap firmly around her wrist. "Don't stop." Ginny's voice was almost unrecognizable from the bold-faced, self-assured, Gryffindor that everybody knew her as; now her voice was soft – barely louder than a whisper – and pleading. "You're so warm."

And Luna was, indeed, warm. From the moment Ginny had grabbed Luna's arm, the terrible, _terrible_ cold, dead feeling inside of her had evaporated and been replaced with the more welcome thoughts of summer days and redheaded princesses.

Luna held Ginny a little closer – if either let go then the cold feeling if the world outside them would return – and began stroking her red hair, almost as one strokes a cat, with no more fears of winding up in the hospital wing. Ginny's hair still wasn't warm, but the girl, herself, more than made up for that by wrapping her arms around Luna.

Luna's last thought before her weary eyes shut was that maybe Summer was here after all.

_And they Lived Happily Ever After…_

Luna knew it wasn't that simple – it couldn't be that simple. The war was still going on around them, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters could be lurking behind any corner. It could only be that simple in those silly books that she used to read. Those silly books where the magical animals were drawn incorrectly and the spells were given the wrong incantations. (Those silly books that she still keeps in the bottom of her trunk and looks at when no one is around.)

However, even though Luna knows that there will be no simple happily ever after for her, Ginny has invited her to stay with the Weasleys at the Burrow for the summer, and, even if it was only a short-term one, Luna would gladly take her faerie tale ending.


End file.
